She finds Antaris alone in the cafeteria, tidy as usual in his uniform and bow tie. His book bag is on the seat beside him, lunch box on the table, jacket on the back of his chair. She observes until he lifts his head. That’s her cue. Pushing open the door, she lets in a breeze with her entrance. It’s been just over a month since Antaris came into her life, and each session reinforces the quiet rhythm they’ve found together. Veda isn’t sure who’s helping whom more.
“Hello there.”
That gets his attention, until his eyes drop to her side. In her haste, Veda forgot to drop off the lavender sprigs meant for the school’s stores. She sits beside him and places them on the table.
His eyes never leave.
“Do you like plants?”
He taps the table twice.Yes.
“These are just some stems that broke off, but there are plenty more ready to go in the ground.” She’s not one for interpreting his silence, but his open awe is easy to translate. “I can take you to the garden, and we can plant the rest together.”
Antaris nearly jumps to his feet.
Veda cracks a slow smile, tucking the lavender away and leading him out of the cafeteria. Outside, he grows cautious and unsure, trailing behind. She glances encouragingly over her shoulder. “Come on.”
He dashes back inside before she can stop him. Confused, Veda waits until he returns, umbrella in hand.
“Oh, it’s going to rain later. I suppose we can’t be too prepared.” Before she can talk herself out of it, she offers her hand. He doesn’t take it but walks beside her, close yet distant.
His eyes roam curiously over the animals. The trees. The sky. Watching him, Veda notices his bow tie is now crooked. She reaches to fix it, but panic plays across his face. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first. May I?”
He holds her gaze, then slowly nods. Veda carefully adjusts the bow tie while he bends his head down as best as he can to watch. It’s twisted around the back, so she fixes it under his collar. He’s slow to relax, careful to move.
“There you go,” she murmurs. “Is this your favorite? It’s the only one I’ve seen you wear.” When he nods, Veda smiles. “Well, I like it, too. Whoever made it is talented.”
The bottom of her heart drops when Antaris’s eyes water. He turns away to hide his face, and his broken whimper tells Veda she’s made a mistake and unearthed his pain.
The bow tie. His mother must have made it.
His shoulders shake with each ragged breath as he fights to keep inside what desperately wants out. Silence amplifies his grief, shaking her to the core as she watches him struggle, fighting it ... until Veda whispers his name, reminding him that he’s not alone. With red cheeks and wet eyes, he starts to back away but freezes when she calls him again. Lips quivering, he scrubs his tears away with clenched fists, and hides his face again.
“Can I help?” The urge to dosomething, to reach for him, give this hurting child the comfort he so desperately needs. But he shakes his head.
“Okay. We’ll stay here until you’re ready. Take as long as you need.”
Antaris sinks to his knees, gazing at the sky. She’s done the same countless times before, but when she joins him, she wonders if it’s for the same reason.
“My parents are gone. Like your mom,” Veda says gently. The heartbreak in his eyes steals her breath. “We spent every summer riding around the country in an old camper van because my parents loved road trips. I used to hate it, always complaining because I wanted to stay home. When I was sixteen, I was swimming in a lake we were parked by while they were grilling lunch. One moment they were there, the next ... gone. Vanished. Like so many others.”
When she feels a small hand on hers, Veda smiles sadly.
“I haven’t stopped missing them, just like you haven’t stopped missing your mom. Some days are easier. Some aren’t. The worst is forgetting the little things, so when that happens, I look to the sky, because even though I can’t see them, I know they’re still with me—woven into the Cosmos. Your mom, too.”
Antaris nods in teary understanding, eyes not leaving the sky. Veda doesn’t realize her own eyes are wet until her vision blurs. The breeze dries their cheeks as the sun peeks out once the clouds roll on. It feels like hours pass before Antaris stands.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
He nods slowly, then points, as if asking her the same.
“I’m sure.” Veda points toward their destination. “Let’s go.”
The garden swells with freshly planted life. Veda hangs his umbrella on the gate latch while Antaris wanders between rows of fruits, vegetables, and herbs.
Raised beds line four grassy aisles leading to the greenhouses. Flowering bushes border the fences that enclose the garden. Veda lingers near the entrance, watching as Antaris looks around with his hands behind his back. Careful. Respectful. But when he reaches the bed with an assortment of camas, red columbines, and common yarrow wildflowers that are in full bloom, Veda joins him.
Still worried about his outburst, she puts on a brave face. “Do you like them?”
